“Oh, thank you! Could you play that tune for me? I didn't hear it, and I'd love to, if you are willing,” asked Jill.
“I didn't think I ever should want to play again, but I do. Will you sing it for her, mother? I'm afraid I shall break down if I try alone.”
“We will all sing, music is good for us now,” said Mamma; and in rather broken voices they did sing Ed's favorite words:--
“Not a sparrow falleth but its God doth know, Just as when his mandate lays a monarch low; Not a leaflet moveth, but its God doth see, Think not, then, O mortal, God forgetteth thee. Far more precious surely than the birds that fly Is a Father's image to a Father's eye. E'en thy hairs are numbered; trust Him full and free, Cast thy cares before Him, He will comfort thee; For the God that planted in thy breast a soul, On his sacred tables doth thy name enroll. Cheer thine heart, then, mortal, never faithless be, He that marks the sparrows will remember thee.”
“Now, Mr. Jack, it is a moral impossibility to get all those things into one trunk, and you mustn't ask it of me,” said Mrs. Pecq, in a tone of despair, as she surveyed the heap of treasures she was expected to pack for the boys.
“Never mind the clothes, we only want a boating-suit apiece. Mamma can put a few collars in her trunk for us; but these necessary things _must_ go,” answered Jack, adding his target and air-pistol to the pile of bats, fishing-tackle, games, and a choice collection of shabby balls.
“Those are the necessaries and clothes the luxuries, are they? Why don't you add a velocipede, wheelbarrow, and printing-press, my dear?” asked Mrs. Pecq, while Jill turned up her nose at “boys' rubbish.”
“Wish I could. Dare say we shall want them. Women don't know what fellows need, and always must put in a lot of stiff shirts and clean handkerchiefs and clothes-brushes and pots of cold cream. We are going to rough it, and don't want any fuss and feathers,” said Jack, beginning to pack the precious balls in his rubber boots, and strap them up with the umbrellas, rods, and bats, seeing that there was no hope of a place in the trunk.
Here Frank came in with two big books, saying calmly, “Just slip these in somewhere, we shall need them.”
“But you are not to study at all, so you won't want those great dictionaries,” cried Jill, busily packing her new travelling-basket with all sorts of little rolls, bags, and boxes.